


Colours of my world

by thiswilldrivemecrazy



Category: Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, au where everything is black and white until you meet your soulmate, yet another take on their first meeting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-05
Updated: 2014-06-28
Packaged: 2018-02-03 12:35:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1744826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thiswilldrivemecrazy/pseuds/thiswilldrivemecrazy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint Barton and Natasha Romanov meet for the first time. Inspired by tumblr post by apharthurkirklands: au where everything is black and white until you meet your soulmate (http://apharthurkirklands.tumblr.com/post/83556716953/au-where-everything-is-black-and-white-until-you)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Clint lives in a black and white world. It makes things easier, really. Targets are sharper, and he knows how things work. Stuck on a mission in the depths of Russia in winter, he knows everything is pretty much black and white anyway, until he glances down his binoculars at his target. He's memorized her face, so he knows it's the right person, but no-one had thought to mention her hair colour, or the brilliant green of her eyes, standing out starkly against the black and white of the terrain. He's mesmerized by the colours and knows that he cannot take the shot. He won't be the one to put her down. Instead, he stows his weapon, and starts to move towards her. He knows she's dangerous, and he just has to hope she's not going to see him as a target.

***

Natasha has grown up in a world of black and white. Target. Not target. Snow. Ice. It's very simple. They point her at a mission, she completes it. She's heard colleagues talking about colour in the world, but none of them ever lasted very long. The one flash of colour she can remember was a star on the arm of one of her teachers, but the rest of him was so black and white that she though she was just imagining things, and after her last friend had disappeared becuase she had spoken of seeing colour, she felt it was more prudent to keep it to herself.

She knows she is being followed. She'd known for some time, but the tail was good, and she hadn't managed to catch sight of them in the week they'd been trailing her through the wilds of Russia. She can tell by the clouds that there was a storm closing in, and possbily a bad one and is heading for a cave she knows will shelter her as the world becomes even more black and white.

She thinks she hears footsteps in the snow behind her as she reaches the cave, and turns around swiftly, both pistols pulled and aimed in the general direction of the noise, ready to fire as soon as she saw something or someone moving. She frowns when she can't make anything out in the rapidly dimming light, shakes her head and moves on towards her hideout before she is forced to take shelter in a snow cave.

The storm is starting to kick up just as she reaches the bottom of the hill, and she's got her head down into the wind and her eyes half closed as she climbs the hill. She feels the warmth of a fire as she reaches the level of the cave and is almsot through the cave entrance before she notices that someone else is there.

She immediately goes on alert, drawing both pistols and leveling them at the intruder. It takes her a moment to realise that there's something very different and strange about the whole situation. The first thing she notices is the man sitting on the other side of the fire has a bow and arrow aimed unwaveringly at her. The part of her brain on high alert knows that if he lets it go, it's going to go straight into her heart, and there will be nothing she can do about it, even shooting him first won't change its trajectory. The other part of her has been knocked sideways by the whole situation. The cave walls are black, as usual, with the fuzzy texture of the mosses and lichens that line it, and stained black from the soot of successive fires that have been lit at its mouth. Most of the man's clothing is black, and his hair is mostly hidden under a black beanie. The thing that stands out, and is the most shocking thing to her about the whole situation is the brilliant blue of his eyes, and in the corner of her vision, the deep purple arrow-head like design blazoned across his chest.

He is the first to relax his stance, slowly allowing the bowstring to return to it's starting position and placing the arrow on the ground. "You see it too, don't you, Red?" He asks, his voice soft in volume, but intense with emotion.

She answers with no words, but she lowers her pistols and places them in their holsters. The rest of the cave slowly develops colours and she realizes that the mosses and lichens have never been black and white, and that the flames burn with a soft yellow glow, with the shadows they create as they dance creating so many more colours than she had thought possible. Finally she speaks.

"I do." She stares at him. "But I'll be killed for it."

"You'll what?" He sounds indignant, offended and defensive at the same time.

"They'll kill me for it. They would kill me for talking to you. Let alone..."

He frowns. "Well, I can guarantee I'm not going to kill you. My masters on the other hand... Not that they'll kill you, but, they might do me in."

She shakes her head, almost without realizing it, and before she can stop herself says, "I won't let them."

His eyes widen, and she knows the expression is mirrored on her face. "Well. Ain't that something?" He asks. She's not really sure how to respond, and after a moment it's clear he's not expecting one. He takes a deep breath, as says hesitantly, as if he was worried it would scare her off, "So, are you staying? Because it's warmer next to..."

She instinctively shakes her head, and then, as her thoughts began to gather themselves, changes it to a nod. This man had quite literally changed the colour of her world. She sat opposite him, on the other side of the fire, and continued to stare, part of her still confused that this was happening, and part of her not wanting to look away from him lest she lose the colour from her world again. She doesn't comfortable sitting right next to him, but he is right, the fire is warm.

After a while, her gaze shifts from him to the dancing yellows and reds of the fire, it's mesmerizing in the most fundamental way, and it relaxes her. As she looks up again, she realizes he hasn't looked away from her the entire time. It makes her more than a little nervous, and she glances at the cave entrance.

"No. No, don't go, I'm sorry. It's just... The fire. Your hair. The colours... I haven't seen anything quite so beautiful..." He smirks and looks down at his hands. "And I've never said anything quite that sappy."

She feels warmth on her cheeks, and the blush deepens as he grins. "I..."

"I'm sorry. I've been warned my stare can be... Intense. I'll try not to."

She nods slowly. "What... What are we going to do about this?"

"Well. Your masters'd kill both of us, wouldn't they? Mine won't."

"But you said..."

"I've been told I have a flair for the dramatic," he says. "There'll be some serious discussions and tests, but... I can't complete this mission, and they can't make me, and if they go around me." He looks up at her, his expression more serious than it had been the entire night. "If they try, even God won't be able to help them."

Even if the words aren't true, she finds them comforting, and finds herself believing them.

The next morning they leave the cave to find the world and eerie black and white after the snow storm. Their first reaction is to turn to each other and check that their world is still in colour. He laughs when he realizes what they were doing and offers her his hand. "Let's go and see the world in colour, huh, Red?"

She takes his hand, smiling, and nods. "That sounds like a brilliant idea."


	2. Chapter 2

The first thing she notices about the SHIELD base is that everything is in shades of grey. She finds herself unable to stop glancing at Clint, just to reassure herself that she is still seeing in colour, it's just that there isn't much colour to see. She glances down at her hands; the dark black of her parka and the sharp contrast of her pale hands was nothing new, but the soft pink tone of her skin is definitely different. Even the handcuff bracelets that are restraining her wrists have a different tone to them.

Clint holds his head high as they are both paraded through the SHIELD base to holding. He'd half known this was going to be how the whole thing played out, but he had hoped that it wouldn't. He had allowed the extraction team to cuff him and didn't fight as they were manhandled off the jet. For now, he just wants to keep focussing on the red hair and green eyes of Natasha, trying to reassure her (and himself) that everything is going to be ok.

Outside the holding cells, they are separated and stripped of all their kit before being handed identical baggy black jumpsuits. Clint sighs as he slides into the jumpsuit and then frowns at the black beanie that is also handed to him. When he hesitates, one of the agents snatches it from him and pulls it on, making sure that there's no hair visible at all.

Natasha slips into the jumpsuit and then reaches for her belt to pull it in a little, but the agents guarding her shake their head and show her two small tabs that will pull it in a little, but it is still far too large. The beanie they tugged onto her head is too big, but it covers all her hair.

They keep looking at each other, focussing on their eyes as the last flash of colour they can see until the SHIELD agents hustle them into adjacent cells.

'It'll be ok,' Clint thinks, as his world returns to the drab greys he was used to, with no flashes of colour to remind him of what he had seen. 'It has to be ok.'

He crosses the room to the bed and sits on it, crosslegged. He hopes that someone will come in and explain exactly what is going to happen. It's not the first time he's gone off script, but it is the first time he had brought a target home. It unnerves him a little that he has just been thrown into holding without anyone asking him to explain the situation; not that he had an explanation, but he was sure he could come up with something. 

***  
Natasha sits on the bed with her back against the wall, unknowingly mirroring Clint's seat in the adjacent room. She hadn't realise just how crushing it would be to have the so-newly acquired colours of her world taken away from her again. Her hands were still the soft pale pink that was a change from the grey shade she was so used to, so she knows that the colours haven't left her, even though she has been separated from their cause. Would they always keep them apart? She was - is? - an enemy agent. She knows that if they had returned to her masters, they would both be dead. Instead, he had convinced her that this was the better option, but what was it going to bring? She wishes that she knew more of how SHIELD operated.

Several hours later (she thinks - it is difficult to keep track of time in the drab room) a man wearing a grey suit and bright blue tie enters the room and closes the door behind himself. He stands there and she can feel him assessing her. It makes her feel uncomfortable, but she is careful not to let that particular weakness show. She wonders for a moment if she can take him out and escape from the room, but then, she is trying to behave herself. Killing one of their officers (she assumes by the suit) isn't going to do anything good for her. 

"Romanova." 

She isn't sure if he's asking her a question, or if it is part of his assessment of her, but it lets her know that they do know exactly who she is. He remains quiet, watching her and waiting for her to respond, but if he's trying to prompt her to spill her secrets just by suggesting they know who she is, it isn't going to work. She is better trained than that. 

Eventually he smiles slightly and unfolds his arms. "You are about as stubborn as I would have expected," he says. "Why did Agent Barton go against his orders?" 

Natasha doesn't reply. If they wanted to know that, they could ask him themselves. She meets his gaze evenly and, while she knows she can still see colour due to his tie and the colour of his skin, his eyes are an odd shade of blue that almost looks grey, especially in the dim white light of the cell. 

"Very well. Why did you go against your orders?" 

"I wasn't ordered to kill him." 

"That's not what I asked. From what we know of your organisation you should have killed him on sight. He got too close. He saw you. He was well within your mission area."

She shrugs. What is going to be the best way to explain things to this man? Were SHIELD agents allowed to...? Well, that they had both been hustled into the cells suggests not, but she is not certain. 

"Romanova, that's not a good enough answer." 

She watches him for a moment or two more sighs and says, "Let's just say he changed how I see the world." 

The man frowns for a moment and then he can't stop his smile as he realises what she means. "Well. That is certainly an interesting development." 

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Natasha mutters. She stiffens when she realises she has spoken out of turn and watches the man raise a quizzical eyebrow. 

"It's ... Look, your profile suggests that you're not a stupid person, so I'm not going to pull any punches on this. Barton's in trouble. He disobeyed his orders and brought you back with him - his bosses upstairs are still trying to figure out which is worse. I didn't think it was quite like this, though." He unfolds his arms and puts his hands on his hips. "Sit tight, and I'll be back with some news in a while."


End file.
